


Figment of His Imagination

by Neverever



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bookstores, Crushes, Identity Porn, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Stony Trumps Hate 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 11:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15862695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverever/pseuds/Neverever
Summary: Tony doesn't believe that the local artist Steve Rogers is a real person. But he's too busy with his bookstore to get to the bottom of that mystery. And he also has a new problem -- a massive crush on that cute blond guy who is now hanging around all the time.





	Figment of His Imagination

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isle_girl808](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isle_girl808/gifts).



> This story was written for Islegirl808 as part of the Stony Trumps Hate auction. I'm thrilled to write this story for them, and hope that they like this story. All they wanted was a romantic story for Steve and Tony. Thank you for working on this with me and giving me the ideas that lead to this story. And thank you very much for your wonderful patience.

“What’s that?” Tony asked, pointing his coffee mug at the stack of colorful flyers by the register.

“Steve,” Natasha replied, as if that explained it. She tapped her pencil against her teeth while she counted the Funko Pops. A big superhero film was coming out Thursday night and they needed to have stock on hand.

Tony reckoned that “Steve” was a local myth. He’d been hearing about the local artist for a couple of years now, ever since he took over the bookstore, but had never actually laid eyes on the guy. According to the legend, “Steve the Artist” lived in the neighborhood and nearly everyone loved him. Tony had heard that he worked for a comics company (but Tony couldn’t find an issue with his name on it), that he had an Etsy site (that Tony could never find), and showed regularly in galleries (that Tony hadn’t seen). He knew about Steve’s boyfriends and ultimate frisbee contests and boxing classes and that time he’d gotten arrested during a protest march. He’d seen the guy’s rumored Instagram, which was all aesthetics and photographs. But he couldn’t have picked Steve out of a police lineup if his life depended on it.

Not that the neighborhood was likely to have made up a fictional local hero who regularly dropped off flyers at Tony’s bookstore. That would have been strange. Even more, Natasha, who worked for Tony, knew Steve and Steve’s friends. And Natasha was a practical and sensible person who didn’t go for conspiracy theories. So for now, Tony tended to believe that perhaps “Steve” was a real person. Possibly. He wouldn’t put it past Natasha to be involved in a long-run elaborate practical joke. Her close friend Clint would definitely be in on it.

“What’s Steve’s thing now?” He picked up the flyer, which had a beautiful and eye-catching layout. Whoever did it had a truckload of talent and then some.

Natasha flicked back her hair. “A group of artists are having a show to raise money for that kid’s family. You know, Peter -- his uncle died in that accident a few months ago.”

Yep, exactly the sort of thing that mythical Steve got involved with.

“Oh, Tony, I forgot to ask -- could I have Saturday night off?”

“Hot date, Romanoff?”

She rolled her eyes at him, then sighed. “I’ve got a thing with Bucky,” she admitted.

Tony didn’t know what the deal was with Natasha and Bucky. It wasn’t like they were in a relationship, and Natasha avoided the word “dating” and “date” when she mentioned Bucky. It was always just “something.”

“Sure, I can cover for you,” Tony said.

~~~~~

He shouldn’t have said yes to Natasha. It was close to 9 and Tony was nearly dead on his feet from working all day. He waved out the last couple of customers and headed over to the coffee area to clean up before he closed shop.

Growing up, Tony had not planned on running a bookstore. He was destined to be the next generation’s tech superstar who would rock the world to its foundations with his amazing inventions and adventures. He graduated early from MIT with a Ph.D and venture capitalist funds burning a hole in his pocket. But California didn’t agree with him, his high-flying ideas fell to the earth like Icarus, and a couple of devastating relationships left him broken. To add insult to injury, he was diagnosed with a heart problem at thirty. He slunk back to New York ruined and worn, a shadow of the man who had left with swagger and the world at his fingertips.

An old family friend asked for his help with her failing bookstore and the rest was history. Despite his other failures, Tony had a knack for business. After tons of hard work and a few sleepless nights, Tony’s bookstore, “Idea Nook,” was thriving. He had even started up a side business fixing phones and small electronics, just enough to keep in the game.

Tony was finishing cleaning up around the coffee carafes when he noticed the guy in the corner. Blondie had nested in the corner with two tables, a computer, his backpack, coat and an empty coffee cup. Like he was planning to be there all night long.

He hadn’t seen him come in so Blondie had been there before Tony arrived for his shift. He had been busy with customers for most of the evening so he hadn’t checked on the coffee area at all. Now he had to evict this guy.

The man was completely engrossed in what he was doing on his computer so he didn’t see Tony hovering at his elbow. Tony coughed a little louder until he finally got Blondie’s attention. “We’re closing in about twenty minutes,” he warned.

Blondie blinked a couple of times and stretched. He rubbed a hand down his face. “Oh, right, sorry.” He stood up and picked up his belongings. “I’ll get going.”

One, Blondie was tall. Two, he was blue-eyed. Three, he was built like a brick shithouse. Even with a fatigue-addled brain, Tony could appreciate the assets. But in all honesty, he just wanted the guy to go so he could close up.

“One of my roommates had someone over so I’ve been staying out of the apartment as long as I can,” Blondie said.

“There’s a coffee shop that stays open to one am a few blocks away,” Tony replied automatically as he tied up the trash bag.

“This place is better,” Blondie replied. “Can I help with anything?”

“Naw, I’m good.”

Blondie moved fast with the packing up, and in a few minutes all his belongings had been packed away in a worn cloth messenger bag and he was in his leather jacket. Tony was closing out the register and followed him to the door to lock up. Blondie gave him a dazzling smile. “See you around?”

“Always here,” an exhausted Tony said as he locked the door.

Late that night when a nightmare drove him awake, Tony sat pondering the ghosts in his life over a glass of water in his kitchen. That’s when he realized that maybe Mr. Mystery Blond might have perhaps, possibly, made a pass at him. He snorted at the thought. Just reading too much into a pretty smile.

~~~~~

The advantage of having swapped shifts with Natasha was that Tony had a full day off from work, both the store and the side business. Not that that would stop anyone from texting him about small problems at the store. But today he didn’t want to be interrupted -- he was visiting the old family friend who had offered him “Idea Nook.” They had completed the sale of the store last year, but Aunt Peggy still wanted an update on how the store was doing.

Tony sat in Peggy’s sunny room at the assisted living place she had moved to a couple of years ago. Peggy handed him coffee before she sat down in the seat. “Tell me about my store,” she commanded.

“My store,” Tony corrected, shooting her his most charming smile.

Peggy laughed gently. She was still intimidating and regal in her old age and always dressed like she had walked out of a fashion magazine for fascinating women. Tony knew he couldn’t get a thing past her, especially about the store. “Fine, tell me about your store.”

“I’m going to expand! The business next door went out of business --”

“Isn’t that the third time in the past two years?”

“That’s why I decided to make an offer -- I can take down the wall between the stores.” He ducked his head back and forth as he outlined his plans. “Expand the cafe area and have a place for readings and events too. Right now, book signings practically close us down --”

Peggy interrupted. “You’d have to take down the mural to do that.”

Tony sighed. Right, the mural that covered an entire wall of the store. Everyone loved that mural. Yesterday morning, a woman and her kids were making up stories about the buildings and people in it. It was adorable and something Nat told him should go on the store’s instagram.

“That’s the plan.”

“Hmmm,” Peggy replied. “Hmmm.”

Alarms went off in Tony’s brain. “What’s wrong with that?”

“I mean, one never wants to destroy art in the name of progress ….”

“It’s a so-so mural in a bookstore, not a priceless Italian fresco or anything. People say it looks like the neighborhood but I can’t see the resemblance.”

Peggy frowned. “You have a point there. Still, I’d recommend talking to a lawyer about that before you do anything.”

“You don’t have any paperwork?”

“No, the mural was there when I bought the business years ago -- twelve, thirteen years, something like that -- when I was in my empire-building stage. I never asked about who made it, but then again I wasn’t planning on changing it either.”

“Okay. I’ll take it into consideration.”

Peggy smiled. “More coffee?”

“What you are selling now?” Tony loved his adopted aunt Peggy, but she always had a thing or two up her sleeve. Like a struggling bookstore needing an innovative and fearless leader. Peggy had the same look on her face right now.

“If you’ve rejoined the dating pool --”

“That’s off limits.”

Peggy gave Tony a considering look as she leaned back in her chair, chin on hand. “I have another young friend who would be perfect for you. He’s an artist type -- finally available -- nice guy, sweet, cute.”

“Nice of you to think of me, but no thanks.”

“Not even as a favor for me, your favorite adopted aunt?” Peggy teased. “Actually, I’m doing this as a favor for him. He’s had a bad run in boyfriends and girlfriends and could use a nice, smart boy like you in his life. You’d be perfect for him.”

Tony waved his hands. “Not now.”

“Okay, okay,” Peggy replied. “Sorry for bringing it up. Tell me more about the store.”

~~~~~

Tony didn’t notice when he’d given up. Maybe it was after a bad date when he got back to New York. Or when he swiped through Tinder and felt like getting a mind wipe to forget what he found. Or after getting the diagnosis about his heart. The thing was that once all he wanted was to find the right guy and settle down. Not the most ambitious thing in the overall scheme of things. But it was something that eluded him. And he’d been blessed with a talent for falling for the wrong person who inevitably trampled all over his heart.

So there was no good reason for him to have a crush on the Mystery Blond who had set up camp in the coffee area a couple of weeks ago. Or think about taking Peggy up on her offer to introduce her friend. Whom he had never heard of until she suggested a date.

He wasn’t lonely, he didn’t need anyone, and he certainly didn’t want a relationship.

So he was unprepared for the next time he ran across Mr. Mystery Man on a random Tuesday afternoon. Nat was in the back helping a customer on the phone so Tony was manning the register. Blondie put a couple of books, wrapping paper, and a packet of balloons on the counter. “Last minute birthday party,” he explained with a smile.

“Balloons?”

“Water balloons,” Blondie corrected. “I have to get a frisbee too. I’m the entertainment.” He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and paid in cash.

“I’m sure you are very entertaining,” Tony said. “Everywhere you go.” He handed over the bagged items.

“You sound doubtful about that.” Blondie tipped his head slightly to the side, so that Tony could see his chiseled jaw and sweep of his long eyelashes. Tony did not have the bandwidth right now for butterflies in the stomach, all because Mr. Angel from Heaven decided to start gracing his store with his glorious presence.

“I assure you that I have an expansive imagination about what entertainment means.” Tony tried hard to not let his burgeoning smile break completely across his face. But the bright smile from Blondie told him he failed.

“But that imagination doesn’t include water balloons.”

“I mean -- balloons and frisbees? What kind of party is this?” Tony’s mind went to a no-good place about the kind of party one could use balloons and frisbee for. A party with jumping out of a cake and a blond man who no doubt looked fantastic without clothing.

“A party for my next door neighbor’s five-year-old at the park, with water balloons and a frisbee-loving dog.” He mimicked tossing a frisbee to a dog.

Shame poured over Tony. “That sounds remarkably wholesome,” he mumbled.

“I’m sure that there are other parties that are a lot less that, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“And if I was?”

“We could talk about that more some other time.”

Before he could respond, Tony spotted a customer waiting off to the side. And that was that for spending time with Mystery Blond.

“Be right with you, Ms. Garcia.” Tony tucked the receipt in the bag and handed it over. “By the way, I wouldn’t recommend those for water balloons.”

“Oh?” The man looked at the package of balloons.

You need thicker latex. Let me know how it works out,” Tony said before nodding to Ms. Garcia and her armful of LEGO sets.

“Sure. I’ll catch you later,”  Blondie said with a smile as he left.

An hour later, Tony nearly smacked himself upside the head thinking about his lost opportunity to ask The Guy about his name. He’d been so taken with The Guy’s smile and the idea of playing with frisbees and dogs and eating a picnic in the park that he had completely, utterly failed to ask his name.

He was such an idiot.

After that, Tony saw Blondie a few times more in the store, usually at a distance. He was a hard man to miss. Blondie always made a point to wave at Tony and smile, and was turning out to be a real bright spot in Tony’s life. Now Tony just had to find out what that guy’s name was and if a talk about water balloons was in their future.

“Rhodey, tell me why I don’t date. Again,” Tony said. He barely got to see his best friend from college all that often after Rhodey married the Air Force. It was late at night, and he couldn’t find anything to watch and he was sitting in bed thinking about the Guy and it was a perfect time to call Rhodey. Though it didn’t sound like it was a good time for Rhodey.

“Do you know what time it is?” Rhodey answered from the other side of the world.

“Super late. Or early. I haven’t checked.” Tony could have heard the sigh that issued from his phone clear across the room if his ear wasn’t next to it.

“Okay. Doesn’t matter. I’m up now. Tony. What’s going on?”

“There’s a guy -- not just a guy but you know, A Guy. And he comes to the store in shirts. Not that -- he bought balloons to make water balloons and he tells me about a party with frisbees and cake and five year olds --” Tony stopped to breathe. “Wait. I’m talking like I’m thirteen and I’m having my first crush.”

“Uh-huh. So there’s this guy. And he wears shirts.”

“That’s not -- you know what I mean.”

“You know what, Tone? You should have a nice guy in your life. It’s been too long. What’s his name?”

“That’s the problem -- I don’t know.”

“Guess that’s easy to solve. Ask.”

“I’ve talked to him too many times to ask now. I’ll look stupid.”

“And you’ve worried about that before?”

“Not helping.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the guy who won’t ask his crush his name.”

“It’s more like I forget to. He’s that great.”

“You’ll have to do something about that before you sent out the wedding invitations. Tony and Blank Space doesn’t have a good ring to it.”

“You know what, I’m going to invent a pillow I can throw through the phone at you and you’ll be sorry.”

“Not as sorry as you are right now.”

~~~~~

Nat asked for the upcoming Friday off. “You’re just doing that so you don’t have train Clint,” Tony accused. He’d recently hired Nat’s friend Clint as part-time fill-in help.

"Clint’s fine -- he’ll catch on.” She finished changing the register tape. “So that’s a yes about Friday? Because I can do Saturday night.”

“How about you do my Sunday shift instead?”

“Sure. I wasn’t planning on the group brunch anyway.”

“Group brunch?” Tony gave her his full attention.

“It’s a Sam thing. He gets the group together for brunch every now and then -- Bucky, Clint, Steve, me, Wanda, Vision if he’s in town, Thor. Oh, don’t give me that ‘Steve doesn’t exist’ line.”

“I’m just saying I haven’t seen a picture.”

“I have lots of pictures of Steve.” Natasha pulled out her phone she’d tucked in a space next to the register. She scrolled through her pictures, bit her lip when she wasn’t finding anything, and then brandished the phone at Tony. “See. Steve.”

“That’s the back of someone’s head.”

Natasha looked at the picture again. “Okay. I took a lot of photos off because I needed the space. Next shift, I promise.”

~~~~~

Friday night was slow when Tony returned to the store for his shift. The neighborhood streets outside were busy with people walking by and window shopping in the early summer night. But no one seemed tempted to go indoors to shop. By seven pm, there was only so much Tony could do about checking shelves or tidying the discount tables.

This time, Tony saw Mr. Mystery Blond walk through the store door. He had that beaten-up messenger bag from the last time Tony had seen him and was aiming for the cafe area. He smiled sheepishly at Tony. “Roommate kicked me out of the apartment again.”

Tony made a show of checking the time. “This early? Must be a super hot date.”

“He’s trying. Okay if I sit in the cafe until you close?”

“Sure. I’m closing at 10 tonight. Seeing if I can catch any of the late night crowd.”

Business continued to be slow and Tony couldn’t forget Blondie sitting in the cafe. He snuck few looks over at the guy, who was hard at work. Tony should probably check the carafes. Except the carafes were nearly full and he neatened up the area in a few minutes. He should get back to the register.

Though, close up, Blondie was deadly, with a tiny tip of his tongue sticking out adorably as he swept a stylus over his tablet.

Tony pulled up a chair, angling it so that he could keep an eye on the register and hear the bell he set out ring if a customer needed him. He had a dozen terrible pick-up lines at the ready and a mission to get this guy’s name, but, strangely tongue-tied, he ended up asking, “How about that weather?”

Pausing in his drawing, Blondie smiled back at him. “Could be worse.”

“Well, you know, there might be rain but it seems to be warming up --”

The other man turned to face him, putting his tablet and stylus completely down. Tony was not going to fall for this guy, even if Blondie’s blue shirt made his eyes even bluer and his hair a shinier gold, and then there was the matter of his spectacular biceps. “Nice to know that we’re your backup place when your roommate needs the apartment.”

“Beats the coffee shop -- quieter, less traffic, nicer staff.”

“We aim to please at the Idea Nook.”

“I’m surprised to see you working tonight -- I thought you’d be out and about.”

Tony huffed and crossed his arms. “Gotta work to pay the bills.”

“Right, but I see you working here all the time. Don’t you ever have time off?”

Tony wondered briefly at that. He had been working all the time lately with the repair business taking off and planning the bookstore renovations. Huh, he couldn’t remember the last time he had a vacation or a weekend off. “Still building the business, to be honest. I’m even going to expand.”

“Expand?”

“Yeah,” Tony said with a big smile on his face. “The store -- I’ve got an option on the space next door. I’m going to build a better cafe with more seating. Extend the shelves over there -- we need more room for the collectibles, games and cards.” He talked about his plans for more events, including board games night. Blondie nodded along, a smile tugging on his lips.

“So what are you working on?” Tony asked.

“Some commission work. I do lot of different things, but commissions pay most of my bills.”

“An artist? I wonder if you know the mythical local legend Steve Rogers.”

Blondie snorted. “Mythical? Local legend?”

"Yeah, I hear about him all the time, but I’ve never seen actual pictures.”

Blondie broke out laughing.

“No, I’m totally serious,” Tony said, almost laughing himself. “He drops off flyers at the store, and I miss seeing him. Or I hear that he’s been in the store, but of course I’ve been in the backroom and again -- poof, he disappears into thin air. The people who work for me are his friends, but they can’t show me a shred of proof that he exists.”

The other man was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes. “What about his art? Or a photo? Or ---”

Tony might have fallen in love with Blondie there and then because he was nothing short of adorable, wiping tears from his eyes and leaning helplessly on the table. “Art can be forged and photos faked. And I’ve never seen the guy -- who doesn’t exist by the way -- so how do I know if those pictures are really him?”

“My ribs hurt,” Blondie squeaked out. He took a deep breath. “I can tell you on absolute authority that Steve Rogers exists.”

“Oh? Prove it.”

“I --”

The bell on the counter rang and Tony jumped to his feet. “I have to help someone. I’ll be back so you can convince me that this Steve Rogers is a real person.”

Except Tony didn’t get the chance. The first customer wanted help with making a special order and then the next customer wanted a pristine copy of a book instead of the shopworn one in the front window. He had a steady stream of customers for the next couple of hours buying items or asking for recommendations. He ended his evening helping a couple of teenagers find something for their mom.

Blondie was long gone by the time Tony was free and ready to close the store. Tony cursed; yet again he was taken in by a smile and a laugh and the ease of talking and had failed to ask the all important question -- what’s your name. Rhodey was never going to let him live that down.

As he closed up, Tony felt a vague sense of disappointment. Not a crush, he didn’t have time for a crush and not on a customer, no, no, no, he thought as he turned the key in the lock. It was just a bad idea.

He waited at the curb for the cab to take him home. Maybe it’d be worse if he knew the guy’s name. He knew he would look up him and then find out that Mr. Mystery Blond was beyond perfect. Like he ran a orphaned puppy rescue or something. Or worse, that the guy was dating someone. Then Tony would have a hopeless crush on someone who couldn’t possibly love him back. Wouldn’t be the first time.

He sighed as he settled in the back seat of the car. He didn’t need this at all.

~~~~~

Clint tossed a folder on the counter a week later when he reported in for work. “Here’s something from Steve.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah. He heard that you didn’t think he existed.”

Tony opened the folder to find a neatly drawn charcoal sketch of himself in the bookstore. Actually, it was the best picture of himself he’d ever seen -- in his favorite vest, standing at the register, handing a book to two small children. Just like what happened last Tuesday afternoon. “This was done by Steve?” he asked again. “After he was in the store?”

“Steve comes here all the time,” Clint explained.

Tony sighed. “And no one ever points him out to me?”

Clint shrugged. “You’re not around for some reason when he’s here or something like that.”

“Right. I’m going to be in the back -- I’ve got a contractor coming by to look at the wall. Let me know when he comes in.”

“Wall?”

“Yeah, I’m signing an option on the empty store next door and I’ve got permission to take the wall down between us and them.”

Clint glanced at the wall. “What about the mural?”

“Not sure what I’m doing about that yet.”

“You know you can’t take it down.”

“I don’t even know if that wall is load bearing or not. So I can’t say for certain if that wall will be staying or going. My vote is ‘going’ if I can swing it.”

“Whatever,” Clint grumbled. “I like the mural.” He picked up a box cutter. “I’ll be restocking the games.”

~~~~~

While pulling things from the stockroom for the discount table, Tony suddenly realized that he hadn’t seen his Mystery Blond for a couple of weeks. Not that he was specifically looking for the tall, handsome man with a spark in his blue eyes. Although just seeing the guy made Tony’s day just a teensy bit brighter ….

It was not a crush. He wasn’t nursing a crush on a customer he barely knew. Even if Tony had purchased a specific brand of balloons that were perfect for making water balloons and was waiting for a chance to mention that to Mr. Frisbee Thrower.

“Sam rescheduled the brunch now that Steve’s back from his trip,” Natasha announced. She leaned in the doorway to the stockroom.

Momentarily confused, Tony looked up from his inventory list. “What? Brunch? Reschedule?”

“Brunch. From a couple weeks ago. Sam decided to reschedule because a lot of us couldn’t make it. So now brunch is next Sunday and I’m inviting you so that you can finally meet Steve.”

“Really.” Tony looked at her over the edge of his clipboard. “I’m finally going to meet the local legend.”

“Not a legend, just Steve. Be there or else. Sam will text the location.”

~~~~~

The architect, the general contractor, the lawyers and the city all approved Tony’s plans to take down the wall and expand into the space next door. The only drawback was that renovations would take about eight months. Tony was already plotting his advertising campaign before the door closed behind the construction team.

“Are you sure about this?” Pepper asked. Tony had met her during a book signing over a year ago and had lured her away from the event planning business to work for him. She was now managing the repair business and the renovations.

“Yes. Absolutely.” Tony studied the preliminary architectural plans laid out over the counter.

“I meant the mural. I don’t think you’d win over the neighborhood if you took it down.”

“Pep, you studied art in college. Does that --” he pointed at the mural “ -- honestly look like an artistic marvel of New York? Does it even look any place in New York you can name?”

 She sighed. “I’m not saying that --”

“I’m right, right?”

“I’m saying the neighborhood values that mural. It’s a risk expanding to begin with. Is it worth it to alienate customers at the same time?”

“People will forget over time.”

“Not as much as you think.”

~~~~~

It was a rainy Saturday at the bookstore. Good for business, bad for Tony’s lonely mind as he wondered if he’d ever see Mr. Blond again.

Just another series of mixed signals and lost opportunities. Guy was probably a jerk anyway. Not worth the time Tony spent pining over him.

A wet Clint dashed through the door, coffee in hand and broken umbrella in the other. “I’m not late,” he said to Tony.

Tony checked his watch. He had completely forgotten the time.

“Hey, Natasha told me to remind you about brunch tomorrow.”

“That’s right -- I’m supposed to meet the Amazing Living Steve.”

“Yeahhhhh, about that. Steve won’t be there -- he had to stay longer to finish up the installation. Sam got his dates tangled up when he rescheduled. But you should go. Natasha’s main squeeze will be there.”

“Or it’s just another set of excuses about why you and Natasha can’t produce one local artist named Steve Rogers on demand.”

Clint put a hand in one pocket then another. “I’ve got my phone somewhere. I have pictures.”

“That’s what Natasha said. Yet, she did not have them.”

“And I left my phone at home.”

“Hmmm. That’s convenient,” Tony pointed out.

Clint shot him a look. “I’ll prove that Steve exists.”

Tony shook his head. “At this point, I won’t believe any of you unless you bring him to the store in chains with copies of his birth certificate and passport.”

“That can be arranged,” Clint retorted.

~~~~~

Tony looked wearily at his beeping phone next to him on his bed. Natasha had been sending him pointed messages ever since he bailed on brunch. He probably should have gone, but admittedly his interest waned once he learned Local Legend Steve wasn’t going to be there. And it was already so late and he had at least another hour of work.

But it could be the store or Pepper or something he’d have to deal with. He picked it up and didn’t recognize the number.

\-- _Hi. This is Steve._ \--

Tony rolled his eyes. Clint or one of his friends was really pushing it with this prank.

\-- _Really. The Living Legend texts?_ \--

\-- _Clint gave me your number. Sorry I missed brunch. Wanted to meet you._ \--

\-- _Prove that you’re Steve. Send me a picture._ \-- Wait, that was dumb. He added -- _With Nat or Clint._ \--

After a couple of minutes, “Steve” sent him a drawing of a stick figure. A very nice stick figure. But a stick figure nonetheless. Then he sent a drawing with stick figures that sort of looked like Nat with long hair and Clint with a purple shirt.

\-- _If you’re pranking me, Clint, you’re unloading the next delivery. The next five deliveries._ \--

\-- _Clint can’t draw stick figures as well I can._ \--

Tony snorted at that one. -- _Good one, Sam._ \--

\-- _What will it take to prove that I’m Steve?_ \--

\-- _Meeting in person. With official ID. And witnesses._ \--

\-- _You drive a mean bargain. :)_ \--

\-- _For the record, I still think you’re Clint._ \--

~~~~~

Tony arrived at Peggy’s a little later than scheduled because of the traffic. And he found her frowning at her watch. “You’re late.”

“Traffic.” He noticed an opened box of cookies and an empty glass on an end table. He sighed with disappointment and turned towards Peggy. “Is this a set-up?”

“Was. That artist I mentioned -- he’s back in town --”

“I said --”

“Pshaw. What kind of meddling god-aunt would I be if I didn’t meddle once in awhile?”

Tony had a dozen retorts to that. But he wasn’t likely to win against Peggy. And he didn’t put it past her to try again.

“You just missed him,” Peggy added, as she pushed her hair back over her ear. “Are you sure you didn’t run into Steve on the stairs?”

“I took the elevator. Wait -- Steve?”

“I didn’t mention his name before?” Peggy handed him a hot cup of coffee. “Steve Rogers -- I met him at the bookstore a few years ago when he was in college. I think he’s a fascinating person -- an artist, ex-military, bit of an activist -- but if you’re not interested --”

Tony had no words, he really didn’t. He sunk into his seat and ran a hand over his face. “You know the mysterious Steve Rogers. Of course you would.”

“I don’t know why you call him the ‘Mysterious Steve Rogers.’ There’s no mystery there at all.”

“You know him and if it hadn’t been for that red light on 6th, I would have met him.” Tony was nearly hysterical. “I’ve never seen him. Two of his friends work for me and they’ve never been able to prove that he exists. They don’t have pictures, never point out when he’s in the store, he can’t make it to the brunch where I’m supposed to meet him. Clint pranks me on the phone pretending to be him and there are no pictures on the internet.”

“Steve prefers to let his art speak for itself so he discourages people posting pictures. I can’t blame him -- the art world is strange and he doesn’t need to be labeled ‘male model who does art in his spare time.’ He’s serious about his work and a serious professional.”

Tony totally lost it at this point. Now Steve — Neighborhood Hero — was a male model. Of course he would be one, or just as built as one. Peggy looked crossly at him as he leaned helplessly against the side of the chair and coughed up giggles each time he thought about Steve.

“I have no idea why you think any of this is funny at all,” she said. “You get the strangest ideas at times, Anthony.”

He fumbled his phone in his hand. “Is this Steve’s real number?”

Peggy took the phone and checked the number. “That’s Steve’s, all right.” She pointed to a framed watercolor of flowers on a desk. “That watercolor you like so much -- Steve painted it for my birthday a couple of years ago. And over there --”

Tony threw up his hands. “I get it. I get it.”

“So now, you’ll meet my friend?” Peggy looked unbelievably smug as she asked.

“Maybe. We’ll see if you can deliver him,” Tony shot back. His money should be on Peggy. But if Steve’s own friends and roommates could not figure out how to get Tony to meet Steve, how good were Peggy’s odds after all?

“It won’t be for another week -- he’s traveling, but when he’s back in town, we’ll all go out for a nice lunch and I’ll watch you explain to Steve that you didn’t think he existed.”

“Just to see me squirm?”

“No, not entirely. Steve will be highly amused. As am I.” She ruffled his hair, smiling fondly at him.

~~~~~

A week later and Tony had an appointment with the contractor he had hired to talk about the store renovations. The minute Tony walked through the store door, Natasha pounced. “What’s this about the mural?”

“I told you -- I’m taking the wall down and the mural’s got to go.” He put his backpack on the counter and turned to face Natasha.

She was looking at the mural and the contractor making notes on his phone. “Everyone likes the mural.”

“Great. I’ll make sure we take pictures tomorrow before the workers start the demo. Pepper updated the store webpage, facebook and instagram about the renovations.” He was keeping the store open during the reno. Clint and he had moved around some of the shelves and the contractor was going to hang plastic sheeting and caution tape over the work site. The carafes, tables, and chairs had already been neatly packed away in storage during the renovations.

Tony wondered if Mr. Mystery Blond would come back to the store if the cafe wasn’t there. It couldn’t be helped, but he’d miss the guy. A lot. Maybe the bigger and better cafe would lure him back.

“Earth to Tony. Earth to Tony,” Natasha said. “About the mural --”

“Stop. I’ve done my homework. There’s no law protecting the mural and that wall is in the way of expanding the store and that includes the community programs we’ve been wanting to do for years. Matter is closed and shut.” He stopped in his tracks. “Are you sure that the mural is even about the neighborhood?”

Natasha shot him a dirty look but said nothing for the rest of her shift. But Tony caught her later checking her phone and studying the mural closely.

~~~~~

Tony had to go downtown to clear up a permit before work, so he wasn’t there when Clint and Natasha opened the store or for Pepper’s meeting with the general contractor.

Which is why he first saw (heard actually) a noisy crowd outside the store with signs and placards protesting the tearing down of the mural. Unreal, he muttered as he shouldered his way through the crowd into the store. Where did all these people come from on a Tuesday morning? was his next thought. He had to wade through more crowd to get to the counter.

“Natasha, what’s going on?” he asked Natasha who was standing behind the counter on her cell.

She looked up. “I told you people would be upset.”

Clint rushed over. “Did you get Steve? He’s not going to like this.”

She put up a finger. “Yeah. Yeah. Store’s open. Oh. Tony’s here now. You didn’t have to do that, Bucky -- it’s a real mess here. What did you say about Steve? Right. See you later.” She put the phone down. “Steve’s on his way.”

“Now you can find Steve,” Tony said exasperatedly. “Out of all the other times he goes missing, somehow he’s available to protest my store. What’s he gonna do?”

Clint explained, “Steve cares about this stuff and he understands the neighborhood. Heck, he’s been traveling back and forth for months for a public art installation in Chicago. He’ll be here.”

Well, that was an explanation for where Steve had been all those times. “It’s just an old mural and we don’t even know who did it or what’s it about it.” Tony took a deep breath. He hadn’t had enough coffee yet this morning. Or maybe there was never enough coffee for this sort of thing. “Did you organize this?” he asked Natasha.

She shook her head. “No. I don’t need this either -- I like the mural but this is bad publicity for the store.” She paused. “I like the idea of the mural,” she corrected.

“Bucky might have posted something,” Clint admitted.

Natasha sighed. “He wants to be helpful. We kind of got carried away at brunch a few weeks ago about the mural and public art.”

Tony rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get this cleaned up, sorted out, and back on track. Clint, print up some coupons for the protesters. Natasha, get your boyfriend to take down whatever he posted. Where’s Pepper?”

“Wait.” Clint tapped Tony’s shoulder. “Um, people are still angry, Tony. Maybe you should say something?”

“About what?” Tony stopped in his tracks.

“The mural?”

Tony looked over at Pepper, the contractor, and the workmen trying to do their jobs and getting entangled with a couple of protesters. He wasn’t at the point where he wanted to call the police on his customers. Clint might have a point.

But then the crowd got quiet and parted to create a path as a new customer came in. That’s what Tony thought happened as he watched the tall blond man in a suit with a blue tie walk towards him. Mr. Mystery Blond, looking like he’d marched right off the catwalk from New York fashion week right to his doorstep. Or strutting like an action hero away from an explosion. He’d always thought that the guy was the most gorgeous person he’d seen in ages, but the suit elevated him in ways Tony didn’t know was possible.

“Steve, can you help out here?” Clint asked.

Tony did a double take. “You? You’re Steve?!”

“Steve Rogers, in person,” the man said, with a smile only for Tony.

Dazed, Tony shook his hand. “But -- I thought --”

“I was a figment of everyone’s imagination?”

“Yeah, well, your supposed friends never had any pictures or anything.” Tony shrugged. He stepped back to take in Steve. The man, the myth, the legend, Tony’s huge crush. “You could have introduced yourself, you know.”

Steve laughed. “You never asked my name! But I knew who you were.”

Tony huffed, but couldn’t stop smiling at the blond man. His mystery blond, after all this time, turning out to be the legendary Steve Rogers? He definitely hadn’t had enough coffee to handle this.

“So you do know Steve after all,” Natasha said knowingly. “Tony, If you had told me that you’d met a tall, blond guy, I could have told you --”

Clint jostled Tony’s elbow. “Uh, guys. The crowd.”

“Right,” Steve replied, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from Tony.

He walked back to the front door, saying hello and shaking hands as he went. “Hello everyone! You’re here about the mural in the store.” he shouted.

“YES!” the crowd roared back.

“I’m going to tell you a story about that mural,” Steve said loudly. “Many years ago, the bookstore owner asked a local high school art teacher, Ms. Halliwell, if her students would paint something for the store. My class started this mural.”

Tony looked at Natasha who was just as surprised. “We didn’t know,” she whispered to Tony.

“Great, just great,” Tony muttered. Not only was Steve here to stop the mural, he had made the mural to begin with. This had to be the worst crush Tony ever had. At least Steve wasn’t going to try and swindle Tony’s business out from under him. Yet.

Steve continued. “But Ms. Halliwell, the other students and I didn’t finish the mural. I came and worked hard, as hard as I could, and my friends did too. But the owner got impatient and hired his nephew to finish the mural. His nephew painted over all of our work and changed the design of the mural from being about our neighborhood to something generic.”

The crowd made disappointed noises and muttered.

“So Mr. Stark is only righting a wrong done to high school students eager to do great on their first public art project by getting rid of this mural.” Steve smiled at the crowd. “I would not be the artist I am now without the experience of working on the mural. Mr. Rodriguez wants a mural done by local students for his restaurant around the corner. We have already talked to the high school art club and have plans to get comments from the neighborhood to make this mural a real reflection of our home. Thank you to Mr. Rodriguez for doing this and for Mr. Stark who gave us the idea!”

The crowd applauded.

“The workmen need to get back to work --”

“And we have coupons for the store!” Clint said jumping into the crowd to hand out the slips of paper.

Steve stayed to talk to people in the crowd as the crowd dispersed, happy with Steve’s news. Tony and Natasha were busy at the register with spontaneous purchases. Finally Steve returned to the counter.

“So that’s what you were working on yesterday,” Natasha said.

Steve nodded. “Marc mentioned the idea to me a few months ago. This gave him the push. It’s going to be great!”

Clint pointed out, “You never mentioned that you painted the mural.”

“No one ever asked me about it.” Steve shrugged. “I get angry thinking about what happened. I had a hard time coming here until Ms. Carter bought the store. I did get into activism because of it.” He turned to Tony.

“Thanks,” Tony said with all the sincerity in his heart. He could see why Steve was the neighborhood hero. “You really helped me out.”

“Anything for you. You’ve done heroic things with the bookstore.”

Tony and Steve kind of kept staring at each other with dopey smiles on their faces. Clint gagged in the background and finally Natasha nudged Tony.

“Oh, right -- uh, I wanted to ask --”

“Want to go out to dinner sometime?” Steve asked.

“Since you twisted my arm, sure,” Tony agreed. “Just don’t put the reservation under ‘Living Legend’.”

~~~~~

“Peggy’s been telling me about you for years,” Steve said over his burger and craft beer.

“Really?” Tony was intrigued. Steve had picked a great place, warm, with fantastic food and brick walls, located far away from the book store.

Steve grinned at him. “Yeah, she kept saying that I needed to date better people and that she knew this brilliant man that she wanted me to meet.”

“I had no idea that you knew Aunt Peggy.”

“Then again, you didn’t think I existed,” Steve teased. “That all my friends made me up.”

Tony was already a complete sucker for how Steve’s nose wrinkled when he smiled. And how he said Tony’s name. “Can’t blame me. No one had a picture of you. Or could point you out in the store. Nothing on social media.”

Steve took out his phone. “How about we fix that?” He shifted to put his arm around Tony’s shoulders so he could take picture of Tony and himself. He tapped on the screen. “See -- it’s official -- I posted on instagram.”

Tony grabbed the phone and groaned when he saw the screen. Steve looked worriedly at him. “What’s wrong? I thought the picture was cute.”

“The picture _is_ cute.” Tony pointed at the screen. “It’s right there. _#BrooklynnSteveR_ How could I have missed that?” He turned to Steve. “What kind of idiot am I?”

Steve kissed the side of his head. “My idiot.” Then he squeezed Tony's hand. "But to be fair, I'm hard to find."

"No kidding," Tony replied with a kiss of his own.


End file.
